Those Gleaming Eyes
by PrudenceKimberly
Summary: An AU that follows the events of the movie, borrows a bit from the book. Christine isn't as terrified of the Phantom as she thinks she is, and she isn't in love with Raoul as he thinks she is. What will happen when the young soprano decides to save her angel? I own nothing but the plot of the story.
1. Chapter 1

**This takes place right after Christine removes his mask at the alcove, mostly from her POV.**

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She lay on the floor, watching as he thrashed about the alcove, ripping curtains and growling at his own reflection, though the words were clearly meant for her. She had removed his mask while he was playing the piano, and in retrospect, it wasn't a great idea. He had trusted her, didn't think she would betray him like this, but she did. Yes, she didn't see it as a betrayal, but the important thing is he did. Her curiosity had gotten the best of her, and she revealed his face, the one he had worked so hard to hide from people. The piece of white porcelain he had used as a shield for so many years, still lay clutched in her hands, her knuckles now almost as white as she gripped it.

He now sat on the steps at her feet, his right hand still clutching his face and keeping it from her view. But she had already seen it; in the fleeting moment it took him to realize that she had removed his mask, and in the numerous mirrors he had been glaring at for the past few moments, as his angry rant continued. She was surprised that with all of this commotion, no one had come running into the alcove by now, but she guessed that he had taken his precautions to make sure that no sound ever leaves the stone walls. After all, he always plays his piano and composes music, and no one had ever even heard a note.

She snapped out of her own thoughts when she saw how his shoulders slumped, he always struck fear in the hearts of those who had the chance of meeting him before, due to his posture. The way he carried himself, made him look taller than he really was. But now, she found none of that fear-striking posture, nor did she find the confident and talented music Angel before her. All she saw was a broken man, a man who had been walking around with a heavy burden for years, and she was the one who finally broke him. It broke her heart to know that the sense of defeat and surrender he was showing her was her doing. That was not what she meant.

She moved slowly, the white mask still in her hand, and she kneeled next to him. His previously closed eyes flew open, when he felt her hand on his shoulder, as she steadied herself in front of him. His grey-blue eyes met her chocolate ones, and he couldn't believe the lack of fear in them.

"This haunted face" she sang, "holds no horror for me now" she continued, his eyes widening in surprise, and his lips parting, the lower one trembling as he drew in shaky breaths.

"It's in a soul" her voice was the soothing remedy he needed, her hand pressing against his chest, over his heart, "that the true distortion lies" she finished, her eyes holding his terrified ones steady, begging him to believe that she truly wasn't afraid of him.

"It takes more than just a scar to scare me" she informed him, and he was still too stunned to talk, "I do not care about what you look like, I've met many horrible people in my life who had the face of an angel" she soothed, smiling sadly when she saw the disbelief in his eyes.

He finally broke their gaze, and looked down at the hand she had resting on his knee to steady herself, the porcelain mask still safely secured in her hand, and she made no move to stop him when he reached for it. He turned away from her to put it back on, and he heard her sigh in both sadness and frustration.

Once the mask was back on, it seemed the persona granda he had returned as well. He turned back to her, the defeat and fear from mere seconds ago had completely vanished, replaced by the cold, hard stare he normally has. Even the hint of love she thought she saw before she ripped the mask was gone as well, though she supposed that was her fault. He thinks that she took advantage of his vulnerability, and betrayed him. And in a way she did, but not so that she could hurt him like he must believe, but so that she could get to know the man behind the mask.

He offered her his hand to help her up, "you must return" he said coldly, and her hand froze midway to his.

"I beg your pardon?" she whispered in shock.

"Those two idiots who run my theatre will be looking for you" he answered evenly, moving his hand the rest of the way to hers and taking it into his.

The way back to her room was spent in total and utter silence, with her trying to find any landmarks that might help her reach the alcove again on her own. She needed to show him that she won't run and hide just because she caught glimpses of his distorted flesh.

When the finally reached the mirror, he signaled for her to walk through, and without even a single syllable, he shut it behind her. She looked at the mirror sadly, not bothering to hide the hurt from her features, knowing very well that he was still standing behind the mirror, or at least she hoped he is.

"Good Night my Angel" she whispered brokenly, her hand pressed slightly against the mirror, before she left the room and headed for the room she shared with the rest of the ballerina girls.

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**Sorry for any grammar or spelling errors, I will re-read it tomorrow.**

**Whether I continue or not is up to all of you, if you like it let me know and I shall continue, if not I will take it down. Thank you.**

**You know what makes me happy, so keep'em coming :)**


	2. Chapter 2

Christine rushed over to the ballet room, she had overslept that morning due to her adventures the day before, and now she was sure that she would be behind on the steps for the new opera. She wasn't sure why Madame Giry didn't wake her, or why Meg, or one of the other girls didn't, but she guessed that those questions are better saved for their lunch break.

She was still thinking about the events of the previous night, the love she saw shining in his eyes as he looked at her, the care with which he touched her, and the desperation and longing in his voice as he sang to her. And last but not least, the anguish she saw itched in his face when she ripped the mask away, the fear of impending lost, of impending heartbreak. It is true that he had lashed out at her, and even threw her to the ground, but she took him by surprise, and she guessed that people never reacted nicely to his face, and the reaction she received last night became more of a second nature-a reflex if you will- to him, rather than something that required thinking and consideration on his part.

She was a bit surprised that when she got back to the room she shared with the other ballerinas, Madame Giry did not inquire about her whereabouts, she only told her to get some sleep. She had spent the better portion of the night contemplating the older woman's strange behavior. It was almost as if she knew where she had been, who she was with, and saw no reason to be alarmed. It was almost as if she knew the man behind the mask.

Her thoughts hadn't reached a further point the previous night, since her exhaustion overwhelmed her and sleep claimed her before she could contemplate that last thought any further. And now she was also unable to ponder upon it, because she realized that the usually loud music room, was eerily quiet, save for the whispered conversations between the ballerina girls. She snapped out of her thoughts, and the closer she got to the room, the more abundantly clear it became that rehearsals hadn't even started yet.

This struck her as unusual seeing as she knew how punctual Madame Giry was, and she couldn't think of any explanation as to the delay.

Unless…

She picked up her pace and quickly spotted Meg standing at the back of the huddled girls, and headed for her.

"What is going on?" she asked, keeping her voice down, to make sure that she doesn't attract the attention of the furious owners.

"The Opera Ghost sent Monsieur Firmin and Monsieur Dare letters, and they are furious about it" Meg explained, though her tone hinted that there was still more to the story that she hadn't said yet. She cursed under her breathe at his actions.

"What is it Meg? What aren't you telling me?" She inquired urgently.

Her answer did not come from Meg, however, it came from the angry voice of Monsieur Andre, "he wants that understudy to be the star of the show" he screamed incredulously, and Christine couldn't help but scowl at his words.

'He didn't' she groaned to herself.

"Need I remind you monsieur, that this _understudy_ as you called her got a standing ovation last night" Madame Giry reprimanded patronizingly, and Christine couldn't help but feel proud that her mistress was defending her, especially at the monsieur's fallen face. But then the oddity of the older woman's behavior struck her; she wasn't just defending her, she was also defending the actions of the Phantom, or her angel of music, or whatever his name or moniker may be. But why?

She is once again snapped back to planet earth, by Monsieur Firmin's voice this time, "people come to this opera house to see Carlotta sing, not some understudy wanna be who filled her shoes at the last minute" he retorted, and Christine saw her mistress's jaw clench.

"If she hadn't filled in, Monsieur, it is my understanding that you would've lost quite a large sum. I understand your hesitation to put her in the leading role, but there is no reason for you to undermine her, or to ridicule the man who is very much keeping this opera house open through his music compositions" Madame Giry said firmly, and both owners realized that she was not a woman to be messed with, and wisely decided to keep their mouths shut when they saw the fire in her eyes, as well as the dare for them to prove her mistaken.

"Well, this is NOT his composition, and it is OUR opera house. Ergo, we get to choose who is in lead and who isn't. This Christine Daee will play the role of the mute lover" Monsieur Andre declared, looking directly at Christine, who merely nodded her agreement.

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**I know that this is short, but it has been three weeks and I didn't update so I figured better than nothing. I am very sorry for the wait, but work has been kind of very very crazy, but I promise that I will do my best to try and update (a long chapter this time hopefully) this weekend. **

**Thank you to all who read, followed and reviewed.**

**Let me know what you all think of this.**


	3. Chapter 3

Christine sat on the roof, looking out at the orange fading into the horizon, as she distractedly watched the vapor coming from her mouth with each sigh she released. The day had been an eventful one; the managers were still throwing a fit about the letters they received, and she was still thinking about the events of the previous night. Even though the mnagers decided to go against the Phantom's wishes and put Carlotta in the leading role, with her as the mute lover, they were still quite furious about the 'audacity' of the actions, as they called it.

Rehearsals had gone by as scheduled after that was decided, and she didn't even dare ask for a speaking role. It was quite obvious that the managers were trying to defy the Phantom, and she did not want to give them a reason to cut her out of the play completely, for she knew that this might send him into a blind rage.

She was still a bit angry at his actions, why would he demand that she be the lead? Did he really think that after one night, the crowd would want pay money to see her and not Carlotta? Did he honestly believe that the managers will do as he asks? Or was it some form of apology on his part for his actions the previous night? Or maybe even a way to get her to go see him again? Was he really this terrified that she was going to run for the hills now that she had seen his face? Has people really been this inhuman to him through his life?

She had tried to discuss him with Madame Giry during a short break, but the older woman told her not to ask many questions.

'Curiosity killed the cat, my child' she had warned, giving Christine a look which meant end of discussion.

But Madame Giry did not understand, she did not want to ask about his disfigured face, nor did she care how it came to look like this. She just wanted to learn more about the man within, how he knows Madame Giry? And why is he infatuated with her? And most importantly, how did he come to live beneath the Opera house?

But alas, the head mistress's firm tone, and cold stare put an end to her questions, and she found herself even more confused than she was when she returned from his alcove the previous night.

She pulled her heavy cape tighter around her body to shield herself from the cold breeze of the night. It hadn't started snowing yet, but it was still cold and she was wearing nothing but her ballerina outfit.

She jerked slightly when a hand was placed on her shoulders, smiling when she met Raoul's blue eyes, "Raoul" she breathed in relief, "you startled me" she reprimanded lightly.

He smiled apologetically at her, "sorry about that little Lottie" he said affectionately, and she smiled at the title, "I did call your name a few times as I walked over here, but you seemed to be quite distracted" he commented, and she averted his gaze to look back at the fading sunlight.

"It's been a long day that is all" she observed, as he took a seat next to her on the ledge, "I am sorry about last night, but something came up" she said sincerely, but he didn't look convinced.

"You mean the man who came to your room" he dead-panned, and she whipped around to look at him, "another admirer I presume?" he wondered, though it was obvious that he didn't believe that the voice he heard belonged to an admirer.

"You heard him?" she asked in shock, and he nodded.

"I called out for you many times, but you didn't even honor me with a response. He must be very important" he said a bit too condescendingly for her taste, and she was wishing and praying that the Phantom wasn't listening to this conversation somehow.

"He is. He is the man who gave me my voice" she decided to be truthful with him. Well, as truthful as she can be anyways.

"Ah, yes. The mysterious mentor, tell me Christine, do I get to meet this mystical teacher of yours?" he asked, and she easily spotted the disbelief in his voice.

"He is not mystical, Raoul" she chastised, "he is quite real, and even you heard his voice last night" she reminded, but he still looked skeptical.

"Yes, but it didn't sound like he was complementing you on a job well done" he snapped, "and this morning I hear that this mysterious Opera Ghost has requested that you be the star of the show" he continued.

"Well, I did not ask him to do so, Raoul, and I am very sorry to have caused you any inconvenience" she almost hissed angrily, as she got to her feet and headed for the door.

"Christine, I'm sorry if I offended you. It's not that I don't think you are worthy to be the lead, but the public has yet to know you. You were marvelous last night, and I would love it if one day they paid to see you sing, rather than Carlotta. I did not insinuate that you asked him to do such a thing, because he does not exist. It is probably just a publicity stunt by Carlotta or one of her people" he soothed, but it only seemed to anger her even more.

"He is quite real" she insisted.

"Wait" he exclaimed, "you don't think that this Opera Ghost is actually your mentor?" he stated in disbelief.

"I don't _think_, I _know_" she said defiantly.

"Christine" he breathed, "I am afraid you have been a prey to a cunning man's evil scheme" he cautioned her.

"I've been there" she declared, and he looked at her in shock.

"I beg your pardon"

"I've been there, down to his world. A world of unending night, a world where daylight dare not enter, a world where even candlelight dissolves into darkness" she ranted, "I saw him, touched him. He sang to me…" she lamented fondly.

"Christine" he tried again, but she pulled away from him to face the now darkening sky.

"His voice filled my spirit with a strange, sweet sound….in the night there was music in my mind" she sang, "and through music my soul began to sour" she confessed, and the hint of love wasn't lost on him, and it annoyed him to great lengths.

"And I've heard as I've never heard before" she finished, a radiant, wistful smile on her face.

"What you've heard was a dream and nothing more" he objected once more, this time a bit too harshly.

"This was no dream, and if you do not wish to believe me, then that is your business. But please do not be so rude as to tell me what I have and have not seen or dreamt" she snapped, and he was a bit taken aback by her tone, "I am very sorry for last night's trouble, but as I tried to tell you, he is very strict when it comes to me leaving the Opera, especially after an exhausting night such as the previous one. So if you please, next time give me a chance to answer your proposition instead of assuming to know my answer" she lectured firmly, before she headed for the door without another word.

She was glad when she did not hear his footsteps following her, for she had no time for him right now, she had another mission to accomplish. She made her way through the countless workers and ropes, ignoring all of their remarks, or questions about her destination, for it was honestly none of their business. She was hoping that Carlotta would have left already, and that her room would be unlocked. For the only way she knew to reach the alcove, was through the mirror in her room.

She nearly danced with joy when she saw no light from under the door, she slowed down her pace and looked around. When she found no one, she slowly reached for the knob as she closed her eyes in a silent prayer. She cracked her eyes open when she heard the faint click of the latch, and she hurriedly scurried into the room and closed the door behind her, even going as far as locking it behind her for she wanted no interruptions.

She took slow, almost hesitant steps towards the mirror and looked at her reflection, "Angel" she called hopefully, but no answer came. She pressed both her hands against the mirror, and pushed on it with all her might, but it refused to budge. She tried sliding it, but still to no avail.

She stood back, her hands on her hips as she contemplated her next move. This was the only way she knew of reaching the alcove, and now it was blocked. Had he locked it the night before to stop her from coming after him? Or is it just that she hadn't figured out how to open it yet?

A loud bang startled her, and she whirled around thinking that someone had broken in the door. She was relieved when she saw the door still standing in its frame, and that she was still the only one in the room.

'You fool, I told you to wait until you hear the click of the latch' she heard someone yell angrily, and it gave her an idea.

She stood up on her toes as she felt around the frame of the mirror for the latch, nearly crying out in joy when her fingertips found a bulge in one of the corners, and pressed it. A surprised shriek escaped her when she lost her footing and lunged forward-since she had her entire weight supported on the mirror when she pressed on the latch- and the mirror moved under the weight of her body, and allowed Christine to slide it to the side enough for her to enter the seemingly endless corridor. Once she was inside, she moved the mirror back into place, and did not leave till she heard the latch clicking back into place. Then she started her journey.

She scanned the stone walls for any signs of trouble, traps or alarms that might warn him of her existence before she wanted it announced, but found none, or at least none that she could find. She moved slowly at first, her neck stretched out a little as her eyes moved wildly around her, her hands clenched into a fist. After a few steps, she became more confident and started to move a bit quicker, after all, she hasn't got all night. The corridor seemed to have no end, and she was starting to wonder if she was lost, or if she should get back and wait for him to find her, when she spotted the winding staircase he had led her down. She smiled happily, and exhaled in relief when she saw how it wound down to where the horse was standing the night before. And it gave her the boast of confidence she needed, and so, she rushed down the steps, past the slope and found herself at the edge of the lake…..but no boat.

She cursed under breath, her eyes darting around in search for another way aside from swimming, but found none. She saw that she didn't have to swim all the way to the alcove, but rather to one of the other stony corridors. She sat on the edge and slowly lowered herself into the water, refusing to let go till her feet touched the ground, and made sure that the water was not too deep for her.

She furrowed her eyebrows as she strained to see if the ground remains leveled, or if they descend gradually to the point where she will no longer be able to walk. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't determine how deep or leveled it was, so she decided to venture and take a step. She slowly stretched out her foot in front of her, then slowly put her weight onto it. When the water remained at her waist, she took another one, and then another. She finally reached the desired stony structure, but realized that it was a bit too high for her to jump, so she moved around the corner a little to try and get to somewhere that she can able to get onto it. Her entire focus was on the task of looking for a lower place to jump, which proved to be a big mistake, almost a deadly one. For if she hadn't been completely focused on the walls, she would've seen the noose where her foot was about step right in the middle of, and she wouldn't have found herself sinking beneath the levels of the water.

She screamed in both surprise and panic when she felt the rope close around her ankle and pull her down, before she was fully submerged. She yanked desperately at the rope, as she tried to find her footing with the other foot. She momentarily found the ground and was able to push herself up to the surface but only for a few seconds. Few very precious seconds that proved to be enough to save her life.

"Angel" she screamed, before the water swallowed her once more.

She was yanking at the rope as she tried to loosen the noose, her entire body thrashing about in panic, as her lungs cried for oxygen, when an arm snaked around her waist, and the tugging on her ankle ceased. She felt herself rise, and soon precious air entered her lungs, as she gasped and coughed. The arm that had snaked around her waist hadn't let go yet, and she wiped away the water from her face and opened her eyes to look at who her savior was, though she had a feeling she knew who it was.

She couldn't help but smile when she found herself staring back into the terrified and worried eyes of her angel, as his other arm went under her knees and picked them up, so she was fully in his arms now.

"Thank you" she said sincerely.

"Are you alright?" he asked in concern.

"I am now" she replied truthfully, but saw how he refused to believe her.

He swiftly walked to the alcove without any other surprises, with her still secured in his arms.

"That was a nice unexpected surprise" she commented reprimandingly, and he looked at her remorsefully.

"I put that in to protect myself against anyone who wished me harm, I most certainly did not intend for you to get trapped in it" he said sincerely, and she smiled at the hint of love she heard in his voice, as well as the gleam of it that was slowly creeping into his tortured eyes.

"I know" was her simple, yet sincere answer. Her heart twisted when she saw the surprise in his eyes at her words, had the world really been this horrible to him?

She hadn't realized that they reached the alcove till she felt him lower her onto the piano bench, as he hurried towards the fire and added more wood to it. She watched him as he disappeared behind one of the curtains only to return a few seconds later with a heavy velvet blanket, which he quickly placed around her. She had to stop herself from dancing with joy when he started rubbing her arms in an effort to warm her.

"Thank you" she said gratefully, and he froze. Almost as if he hadn't realized what he was doing, and her words was the reminder he needed. He immediately took his hands back, and he diverted her attention to the rope that was still around her ankle. She watched as he expertly loosened the knot, and swiftly slid it off her ankle, before he continued to examine it closely.

"It doesn't hurt" she informed him, and once again he stopped what he was doing, and released her ankle.

"Why are you here?" he asked, as he got to his feet and turned away from her.

"To see you" she answered simply, and his head jerked around to look at her, his mouth slightly open from the shock.

His eyes followed her movements as she pulled the blanket tighter around her body and got up from the bench. He watched her as she closed the distance between them, her eyes pleading with him to believe that sincerity of her words. And as much as he wanted to believe her, his years of experience told him that it would only end in heartbreak.

"Do you think that just because I saw your face that I would run and hide?" she asked expectantly, and his silence was all the answer she needed.

"I told you before, I do not care about the way you look. I care more about what is in here" she soothed, as she pressed her hand once more over his heart.

"In that case, the distortion is even greater than the one on my face" he retorted, though he made no move to push her hand away.

"I don't believe that" she objected calmly, "you wouldn't have saved me if it was true" she reminded him.

"I wouldn't have put the trap to begin with" he shot back.

"People can be cruel sometimes, and I am sure that you had your reasons to try and protect yourself"

Her words were like a bucket of freezing waters to the fire burning within his soul, they were sincere, they were heartfelt, they had no ulterior motives.

"Why did you come here?" he asked tentatively.

"Because I did not leave you on a happy memory last night" she replied, "I did not mean to betray your trust, I only wanted to know the man behind the mask" she explained.

"I realize now that it was wrong for me to do so, I am sure that many people did not react kindly to your face in the past, but I am not one of them" she continued.

"Why didn't you tell your _Vicomte_ all that today?Why did you only tell him about a world with endless night?" he snapped, and she couldn't help the smile at the fact that she was right.

"Because I did not wrong him, I wronged you, and whatever happened between us is none of his business. And I told him about the night, so he could believe me when I claim that it was not a dream" she said simply.

"And now it is my turn to ask questions" she stated firmly, and he nodded at her expectantly, "why did you send those letters to the managers?" she asked.

"How I choose to run my theatre is none of your concern, I merely did what I saw fit" he replied, a bit too harshly.

"Well, you certainly have the right to do so as long as you do not drag me into it" she snapped defiantly, "this is not your composition, and you had no right to such claims" she continued.

"Carlotta has no talent, she merely has a high pitched voice. You are a thousand times the singer she will ever be, and those two fools need to see that" he hissed, "and it seemed that not even the Vicomte could see that for himself, and was running after the mindless talent for the sake of the money" he barked through gritted teeth.

"Why do you care so much about what the Vicomte does, or what I think of him?" she asked, one eyebrow arching up.

Her words surprised him, and for the first time in forever, he found himself to be speechless. He wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that, but she was still expecting an answer.

"I simply do not wish for a fop like him to play games with you" he finally said, his voice a bit hoarse.

"That's strange. He thought that you were the one playing games with me" she teased, smirking when she saw the fire in his eyes, and how it angered him and even the jealousy peeked its green head through the mask of indifference.

"Well, then he's a fool" he snapped.

"Well, fool or not, I am afraid I must return now. If I oversleep again the managers might cut me out of the opera all together" she informed him regretfully.

"They wouldn't dare" he said threateningly, before he helped her into the boat, and they both headed back.

That night, Christine slept soundly in her bed, with the the knowledge that now she can always find her Angel, and that he is always watching over her.

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**Here is another chapter as promised, and I hope that it makes up for the shorter one I posted earlier this week. **

**Thank you to anyone who read and reviewed. **


	4. Chapter 4

Christine was one happy ballerina girl when she finally curled up under her heavy and warm duvet, closing her eyes as a dreamy-yet satisfied-smile graced her lips. She and the Phantom had barely said a word to each other, as he led her back to the mirror. And that is what satisfied her; for she felt that, for once, she was the one in control.

She sat behind him on the boat, pretending to watch her surroundings, and not to notice how he tried to steal glances of her as he rowed down the lake. Once her feet were on concrete grounds, she turned to him, thanked him for rowing her and wished him a good night. She hadn't meant to hurt him, she merely wanted to spare him the trip. She felt a pang of guilt, when his face fell, and pleading, tortured eyes met her own. He had asked if he could walk her back to the mirror, his eyes begging her to agree.

She had smiled reassuringly at him, and silently nodded her consent, before she looped her arm through his. Her heart broke when she felt how rigid he got, and the shock on his face, as he gaped at her hand, resting comfortably in the bend of his arm.

Once they reached the mirror, she saw the desire to not let her go in his eyes. She wished him goodnight, as she gave his arm one last, reassuring and friendly squeeze, before walking through the mirror. She could feel how hesitant he was to let her go, how he tightened his arm around her hand, and she understood the urge to do so. After all, she was probably the only human being who has ever shown him mercy and compassion after laying eyes on his deformed face. Aside from Madame Giry, that is. Though she wasn't sure if her Head Mistress ever saw his face.

And now, as she lay in her bed, looking back on the events of the day, she found that she had absolutely no regrets. She didn't regret not talking to him on the way back, she didn't regret going to find him and she most certainly no longer regretted unmasking him.

* * *

The next couple of weeks went by smoothly; rehearsals for the new opera during the day, some general ballerina rehearsals in the afternoons, and vocal coaching from Mr. Reyer. She had not seen nor heard from the Phantom at all, and it was starting to become a bit unnerving. Save for the notes through Madame Giry to the directors-which they promptly ignored after throwing hissy fits about- it was almost as if he disappeared off the face of the Earth.

And seeing as fate seemed to have a grudge against her, she could not find a moment to sneak into Carlotta's dressing room to use the mirror. Either the room would be locked, or Meg would not leave her alone, or even worse, Raoul.

Raoul, her childhood friend, the one who used to play with her on the beach as her father played his violin, the one who used to sit by her as her father told stories, was now the biggest annoyance in her life.

She cared for him deeply, but only as her friend. As someone whom she had shared history, and fond memories with. Not someone she wished to be wed to. But it seemed that he viewed her that way, he had hinted it in many ways, and she ignored them. He would buy her lavish presents, and take her out to fancy diners. Sometimes she would accept, and sometimes she would come up with an excuse not to go, or not to accept the presents, hoping that he might understand the subtle signs, but it seemed he was thicker than she remembered.

He had tried to open the subject of her 'dreams' and her 'mystical teacher', but she had snapped.

'Raoul, please do not insult my intelligence by pretending to believe me. What I saw or heard is my business, and what I choose to believe is also my business, and neither are any of your concern. And I would like it very much if we never spoke of those particular subjects again' she almost hissed at him. Her voice was harsh, authoritative and intimidating. She had smiled kindly at him, when she saw the shocked expression on his face, keeping her smirk to herself, and kindly thanked him when he nodded his agreement, and followed it with a 'anything for my Little Lottie', at which she forced a smile onto her face.

She had gone to Madame Giry, and tried to ask her if she could deliver a note, but the older woman denied knowing how to reach the Phantom. Only that he knows how to reach her, and since Christine had decided to keep her little adventure to herself, she did not volunteer the knowledge about the mirror.

* * *

It was opening night, and the hallways of the Opera Poppulaire were hustling and bustling with the mixed sounds of repair and stage men giving out orders to each other, the ballerina girls chatting away all sorts of things, the busy feet of maids and other people as they got ready, and the distant echoes of the ushers as they led the audience to their seats.

Christine stood in front of her dresser, applying the make-up necessary for the role. She couldn't help but reflect on her missing Angel, the sight of any mirror these days brought back memories of him. She kept wondering why he didn't contact her for the past couple of weeks, she had felt his presence numerous times during rehearsals, but he never showed himself to her. Was it because she had gone out with Raoul a few times? Was it because of the lavish gifts? Does he think that something is going on between them? Is this…

Her train of thoughts was interrupted when Madame Giry barged into the room to announce that they need her on stage. She checked herself out in the mirror one last time, adjusting her coat and hair before she took her leave. Her hand had lingered a bit longer in her hair, as the sudden thought that he might be watching her through that mirror entered her mind, could it be?

But seeing as an impatient Madame Giry was standing in the door way, huffing out a 'hurry up child' every two seconds, she couldn't check for any secret latches or hidden passages behind it.

She followed Madame Giry, and took her place on stage. Maybe he would be watching her tonight, maybe he would contact her now that rehearsals would calm down a bit. She only hoped that the fact that she was playing the mute servant won't anger him, and that he won't do anything rash because of it.

* * *

**So sorry for the wait you guys, but life has been kinda crazy.**

**I know that it is short, and I will try to update again this weekend, but here is a little something till then.**

**Let me know what you all think. **


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